Black Widow
by CAT217
Summary: Adam barely survived Murdock Tompkins. Now back to work a serial killer has set her sights on Adam. What will happen? Takes place after "Right Place, Wrong Time". Please read & review TY.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own CSI: NY just a fan showing some love for the show and our favorite lab rat Adam Ross. And a huge thanks to Smuffly for proofing and editing it.

**######**

Adam began to stir from his sleep; slowly he began to open his eyes, trying desperately to avoid the partial sunlight that always seemed to creep into his large bedroom. To his surprise there was no sunlight. Maybe it was still dark, he concluded. He turned his head slightly trying to see his clock, but it wasn't on. Was the power out? Confusion began to set in. He tried to bring his hands down to rub his face, and couldn't. What in the world? He couldn't move, but why? What was going on? Panic rolled over him as he began to realize he wasn't in his own bed, or in his place. He thought about screaming. But what if it was a dream? Or worse, what if someone had done this to him? Screaming would only get him into trouble. Not that he wasn't already in trouble. He took a deep relaxing breath and tried to remember what happened to him. How had he gotten into this fix? Adam dug deep into his memories, but all that did was make his head hurt. He couldn't remember. Alright, what do you remember? He asked himself silently. The lab, he remembered being at the lab, it was raining; he hailed a cab, everything was fuzzy, he felt funny. Now here he lay in the dark with his hands bound above his head.

**A month earlier….**

Adam sat across from Dr. Suri as they finished his last session. "How do you feel?" she asked him.

"Better. I have to admit it, I think Mac was right."

"You've come a long way in these last few months. And the nightmares?"

"Not as often, but I still get them every once in a while."

"They'll fade in time. Have you talked to your parents?"

"No, I haven't been able to," he quietly admitted. He had no plans of calling them.

"Adam we've talked about this," she scolded.

"I know, it's just hard, I haven't seen them in a lot of years. I don't know if they would even talk to me."

"It's your call, I can't force you to call them, and that doesn't mean that you haven't made progress. It just means that you haven't forgiven yet."

"I suppose". He looked over at the clock, "I have to go; I've got to be at work in half an hour."

"Well this is it; if you need to talk, or if you feel that you are going backwards you call me."

"I will, and thank you."

Adam smiled over at the receptionist, who smiled back. He never noticed the woman off to the corner.

**######**

Jo and Hawkes ducked under the yellow crime scene tape. "What do we have, Flack?" Jo asked, looking down at the body.

"Duncan Winters, thirty five, wallet is still on him. Garbage man found him."

"No initial cause of death." Hawkes carefully examined the body. "I don't see any outward trauma."

"Maybe poison?" Flack suggested.

"Maybe, but look here, bruises around his wrist," Hawkes brought up the arm and examined it. He brought out his camera and documented the bruises. Hawkes opened the wallet. "Full of money, credit cards. Robbery is out," he said holding up the wallet.

"Has anyone reported him missing?" Jo asked.

"Not as of right now," Flack answered her.

As they were finishing up the crime scene, Hawkes' phone rang.

"Sheldon Hawkes," he answered. "Hey Kyle..." He stopped in mid stride. Hawkes drew in a breath. "Alright, I'm on my way." He slipped his phone into his back pocket. "Hey Jo, I've got to go. That was my cousin Kyle. My mom is on the way to the E.R."

"Is your mom okay?" Jo asked with concern.

"I'm not sure. But I've got to run. I'll call Adam and fill him in."

"Thanks. Oh, and Sheldon - I hope your mom is okay." Jo gave him a reaffirming smile.

Hawkes nodded.

**######**

Sid brought his glasses up onto the brim of his nose and looked down at the body of Duncan Winters. No stab wounds. No signs of being attacked. Sid examined the body. He drew blood and sent it up to toxicology, just to be safe. He emptied his stomach content. He didn't find much; the poor man didn't even get a last meal. Sid blew out a huff. Nothing. He had absolutely nothing.

"What do we have Sid?" Jo asked, coming alongside the M.E.

"Murder," he began.

"Are you sure?"

"Right now that's what I am calling it. Strictly on the ligature marks around his wrist."

"Anything else?"

"It doesn't appear to be. I will tell you this, he had a bath right after he was killed."

"A bath?"

"Yes, he is really clean, and do you smell that?"

Jo leaned over and inhaled. "Is that bleach?" she asked with curiosity.

"So we've got ligature marks and a bathed body. Someone doesn't want to be caught."

**######**

Adam had been given the task of going over the victims' clothes but he hadn't found much. A hair and it had turned out to be synthetic. Your average everyday wig, and there were thousands of places to buy a wig in New York City. Other than that, there was nothing. Almost as if the clothes had been washed and the hair purposely placed onto the clothes.

"Adam, how is the trace coming with the victim's clothes?" Mac asked, checking on the progress of the new case.

"It's not. I found a hair, but it's from a wig. It's as if someone placed it on the clothes on purpose. They've been cleaned, and put back on him."

"I see," he answered. Not what he wanted to hear.

As the two men talked, one of the other techs interrupted them. "I have the tox report back from your Winters' case," she said, handing Mac a piece of paper.

"Are you sure this is right?" he asked.

"I ran it twice," she confirmed.

"Alright, thanks," he responded.

"Not good news, I take it?" Adam asked.

"She couldn't find any drugs in his system."

"Wait, what? How is that possible? I mean, even drugs that metabolize quickly stay in the system after you're dead."

"Apparently someone has developed a new drug." Mac sighed. "Not good, it is near impossible to find out the chemical composition."

**######**

She sashayed down the bowling alley. Her eyes wandered around, not really trying to get anyone's attention but they always seem to gravitate towards her. Then there was Duncan. He had been just like the rest of them. Even after she said that she wasn't interested. "_Okay, cowboy," she replied. "You won't regret it," he slickly told her. _She narrowed her eyes up at him. _"Okay, let's go for a walk," she suggested. Silently she thought, oh yes you will regret it._ He smiled brightly at her and then winked over at his buddies. She smiled at the memory. Guess he won't be smiling anymore. It amazed her - all it took was a pretty face and they turn into drooling little dogs that she could just lead right out the door and into her web. She smiled as she swirled the ice in her drink. Then she saw him. Leering over at her. With his tongue practically hanging out. Watching as he nodded over at his friends. She knew what the topic of conversation was. Her—her long legs, her plump red lips, her curvy figure. She smiled as she tipped her head, peering shyly over at him, her red lips mouthing the word "hi." He nauseated her. Giving a nod to his buddies, he walked over to her. So easy, she wickedly thought. So easy. They didn't care, but she would teach them.

"You're new," he said.

"I am," she answered. _This is going to be fun, the voice told her._

"Hi, I'm Eric Stevens." He held out his hand to shake hers.

"Violet Summers," she told him. _He'll be just like the other one, the voice echoed in her head._

"Violet, that's kind of unique."

"It is," she answered him quietly. She leaned towards him, "and I'm kind of unique." _He'll cry like a little boy and beg for his life, the voice laughed._

He drank her up, looking into her deep blue eyes; he'd never seen blue eyes that dark before. Sapphires, that's what they reminded him of. Her hair was jet black with wild curls that engulfed her porcelain face. He wanted to get to know her.

As if she could read his mind, "wanna go for a walk?" she asked.

"Alright," he replied, as he winked over at his friends. _He'll squirm, and he'll plead for his life, but we'll take it from him just like the last one, the voice cooed._

That would be the last time anyone saw Eric Stevens alive.


	2. Chapter 2

**###### chapter 2**

Adam heard someone outside. "Who's there?" he asked with fear in his voice.

"Ah, you're awake," the female cheerfully responded.

He didn't recognize the voice, and he could barely make out the woman the voice belonged to.

"Don't worry, you'll be alright," she said, ignoring his question. He heard the click of a key and his eyes widened. He was in a cell.

"I made you some breakfast." She set down the plate.

"Um, I can't. My hands are tied."

"I know that, silly." She pushed his thick hair back behind his ear. "I'm going to feed you."

How humiliating.

"Open up," she commanded.

Hunger overrode fear and Adam opened his mouth. He ate every bite. "Thank you," he said politely.

"I'm glad you liked it." She traced her finger around the edge of his jaw, sending chills down Adam's spine.

"Do you have a name?" he asked, trying to gather tidbits of information in case he got out of this.

"For now you can call me Violet," she said as she stood up and walked over to the door. "I'll be back in a few, I need to clean up the dishes."

His mind went back to a card. _'Violets are blue, roses are red, and you belong to me now._' Adam gulped. Adam heard the clink of the door closing and the key turning in the lock. Trapped, like an animal at the local zoo, for some wackado amusement. The team will find me. Wait, they don't know I'm missing! Today is my day off, he silently remembered. Adam pulled at his restraints in a fit of anger. But the only thing that did was cause pain in his hands and wrists.

**######**

**One month earlier….**

Once again Jo dipped under the yellow crime scene tape. This time she was joined by Adam.

"Another one." Flack shook his head.

"Same M.O. as the first?" Jo asked, as she crouched down and began to examine the body.

Flack watched carefully. "If I had to guess, I'd say so," he hypothesized.

"Do we have a name?" Jo turned to look at him.

"Yeah, Eric Stevens, thirty five, last seen at a bowling alley, Friday night. One of his buddies reported him missing after he didn't come to work on Monday."

"Can he tell you any more than that?"

"He did, said that Eric met a woman, approximately five foot seven, hundred twenty pounds, jet black curly hair, and oozing with beauty." Flack shook his head.

"Oozing with beauty?" Jo raised an eyebrow.

"Not my words, his - and yes, he's still single. Believe it or not," Flack joked.

"I read over Hawkes' notes, and I'm not seeing anything different." Adam peered out into the crowd, scanning each face. That's when he saw her, staring at him, their eyes were locked to each other, neither of them breaking the connection. "Um Jo," he said as he turned back to get Jo Danville's attention.

**######**

She looked over at the crime scene. She smiled. She narrowed her eyes down on him. So, fresh blood? She watched as he studied the crime scene. He was cute.

Adam stood up and looked across the street. Staring over at the crowd. That was when he noticed her. She was tall, slender and in her early thirties, he guessed. Brown hair, mid length. Why was she staring at the crime scene? Their eyes met and locked in a stare. For a moment, neither of them looked away. "Hey Jo." He turned to look over at her.

"Find something?" she asked from the other side of the yellow crime tape.

"Maybe," he began as he turned back around to find the woman gone. Adam slipped under the crime tape and looked up and down the street. No sign of her. "Weird." He shrugged. He didn't notice her off in the shadows watching him looking for her. Her blood ran hot. He was looking for her. Yes, she would have to know more about this one. He intrigued her.

Adam you are going crazy, he thought. Over analyzing the situation. Nothing bad is going to happen. Not again.

"Hey, everything okay?" Jo asked.

"Yeah." Adam shook his head. "It's nothing." He shrugged and went back to processing the crime scene.

As Adam loaded the evidence into the Avalanche, he didn't notice the woman just a few feet away. He looked sad. She knew that sadness. She studied him. He looked familiar, but where had she seen him? One of her haunts? She burned his image into her memory so she could recall him later. Then she looked down at her watch. Crap, I'm going to be late, she scolded herself. She had a standing appointment and if she didn't show up it would not bode well.

**######**

Sid looked down at the latest victim, nothing different. Ligature marks around his wrist. Nothing in his stomach either. Sid still took a blood sample and sent it to tox, hoping for better luck than the last time. He'd been filled in by Mac.

**######**

Adam once again looked over the clothes, finding nothing but a single hair, only this time it was black. He dug out the Winters folder, and the hair he had found was auburn. This hair was jet black and it looked like it had some curl to it. Adam ran the hair sample. Same answer as the last one, a wig, a wig that could be bought anywhere in New York City. So she was disguising herself, maybe to keep from arousing suspicion.

"I've got nothing," he said aloud.

"That's not what I wanted to hear," Mac answered, coming up beside his lab tech.

"I've got the same evidence as the last case, and I'd bet the tox report will come back the same too." Frustration lined his words.

"Alright we've got two men, both the same age, same build. They have similar facial features and hair color as well. The only difference is their backgrounds; both single as far as we can tell."

"We have a serial?" Adam asked.

"I hope not. If we do they are good."

"She's good," Jo interrupted.

The two men turned to look at Jo. "You mean our suspect is a woman?"

"Well Flack interviewed Stevens' friend and said he saw him leave with a tall woman, with jet black curly hair."

Mac rubbed his face, woman were always so unpredictable when it came to murder. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves; maybe these men crossed her and she wants revenge," Mac objectively concluded.

"And if it's not that? If this woman is a serial we've got a whole different species. Woman serial killers are cunning, they are master manipulators. They use what they've got to lure their victims in and by the time they realize it it's too late."

"I thought woman serial killers were rare?" Adam questioned.

"No, they are just better at getting away with murder. Most of the time they use things like poison. It's less messy and very effective," Jo told him.

"She's got to be in shape to be able to move these men around," Adam added.

"Or she just perfected how to move them. Either way no male is safe in this city. Which means that anyone connected to this case could be a target."

Great, Adam thought bitterly. Not again. He remembered the woman watching them this morning at the crime scene. Lightning never hit the same place twice, right?

"Alright, we'll go on the assumption that these men are connected to our mystery woman."

"Flack is looking into their backgrounds right now."


	3. Chapter 3

She had learned early in life how to survive. Her mother left her when she was eight. And her father, she laughed bitterly at that. Her father was nothing more than a drunk who liked to slap her around for pure fun. She sat nervously in the waiting room. 'She's going to try and stop us,' the voice illuminated. "Shut up," she demanded.

The receptionist looked over at her. "Everything okay, Gail?" she asked with concern.

Gail smiled. "Fine. Just thinking out loud," she lied. 'She'll tell you to take your pills. She'll tell you to silence me. To keep us from our work. You've enjoyed our time. Haven't you?' the voice asked. Gail only nodded. It had given her something the pills never gave her. A relief. A way to release her anger. She enjoyed it. Both of them had done exactly what the voice told her they would do. Beg, plead and cry. All went unheard. She smiled.

"Gail, the doctor will see you now," the receptionist called.

She stood up, smoothed out her dress and plucked the brown stray lock of hair back behind her ear. "Thank you," she said coolly.

"Gail, it's so good to see you," the doctor greeted.

"That's nice of you," she merely answered as she took a seat on the other side of a round table.

"How have you been?" the doctor asked as she looked over at the young woman.

"Good. I'm feeling much better. Better than I have in a long time."

"Good, so the medicine is working?"

"Yes."

"No side effects?"

"None that I could see."

All of it was lies, she'd flushed the medicine. She had told her to. And she always listened to her. She was smart, brave and cunning. She was what Gail wished she was. But then again if she was the only one to hear her then in a way she was her.

"Good. Have you been back to the house you grew up in?"

"I have. It hasn't changed. Though my dad passed a few months ago."

"I'm sorry. I know it's important to have closure."

"It's okay, in a way it's a relief. It's peace for me."

The doctor looked over at the clock. "Well, our time is up for today. I want to see you in here again in two weeks."

"Okay." She stood up, shook the doctors' hand and exited the office. "Sandy, Dr. Suri wants me to make another appointment. She said in two weeks."

"Okay, let's see. How about Tuesday at two o' clock? Does that work for you?"

"Sure."

The receptionist jotted down her appointment onto a little card and handed it to her. She turned and that was when she realized something. He was a patient here!

######

She sat in front of the computer. Typing in the NYPD Crime Lab. As she did, she found article after article. So many articles. It was only half way into her search she noticed an article. 'Lab Tech expected to live after vicious attack.' She clicked on the article. Skimming down, she found that his name was Adam Ross. He had survived a stabbing three, nearly four months ago. She typed his name into the search engine again. Looking him up was going to be harder than she thought. Too many men out there with the name Adam Ross. She sighed; she'd have to do this the old fashioned way.

She hummed to herself as she rode the subway, not paying much attention to anyone around her. She had followed him for a few days. Learning a few things about him. Where he lived and that he had a girlfriend. Nothing that she couldn't take care of. She smiled down at the manila envelope.

This was her stop. She made her way through the throng of people that were exiting the subway and heading in different directions. Walking down the platform, she slid the manila envelope between her skinny, manicured fingers. She dare not leave it at his doorstep; couldn't peak his suspicions. So she would mail it, with a note which read, 'I'm sorry to be the one to have to show you this' and signed 'Anonymous'. Hopefully he wouldn't care where it came from. Hopefully it would send that snotty little blonde packing. She slipped the envelope into the large blue postal mailbox. She had taken precautions anyway, wearing gloves to handle the envelope, making sure it was self-stick, and using a library computer to type the message and print out the pictures. Genius, she silently congratulated herself as she watched the envelope vanish into the mail box.

Skipping off towards the Financial District, she knew he wouldn't be home yet - too early. She knew when he went to work, when he got home from work. She would learn everything about him right down to the toothpaste he used. Her search of him intrigued her. He was nothing more than a lab tech. So why was he at the crime scene? Where had the other guy gone? Not that he impressed her. He hadn't even noticed her. Not like Adam noticed her. Their eyes locked for so long, it had given her a chill. Something that no guy had ever done before.

######

Adam stretched as he walked into the locker room. Quittin' time. He had to hurry as he was meeting Amber for a movie-thon at a Cineplex around the corner from the hospital. It was a Laurel and Hardy marathon. They both had a love for the classic slapstick comedy. And besides, he had sat through two chick flicks so it was only fair.

He was early, and that's when he saw them. Entangled in each other's arms. Kissing. He felt sick. How could she do this? Adam loudly cleared his throat. Amber's eyes went wide. "Um, Adam ... you're early," she told him.

"Obviously." He kept his cool. "Here" He threw down the tickets onto the ground. "You two enjoy the show. I know I enjoyed this one," he barked, then turned around and stormed off.

It was a long walk back to his place. He opened the door, slammed it shut and dropped onto the couch. He looked over to see the two movies they had just watched the other night. He picked them up and dropped them into the trash. A shower, that's what he needed. It would help him cool off. He hadn't noticed that his blankets were wrinkled as if someone had been in his bed.


End file.
